


Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye

by noblydonedonnanoble



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble





	Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye

                I think our problem is that we failed to acknowledge that our time had come to a close.

                Even more than that, it might be safe to say we failed to acknowledge that we never had something in the first place; we were never quite a _we_.

                There came a point when it felt silly to wait for Georgia to fall asleep just so that I could phone Catherine; to smuggle her into my hotel when I was in LA for press tours; or, when she came home, to “go on holiday”  to the exotic location that was Catherine’s bedroom. And together we would reminisce about “the good old days,” of Donna and the Doctor, of Benedick and Beatrice.

                It’s scary, how quickly she could turn me into the man I was then.

                We’d curl up together, and as she whispered, “I love you,” I would wonder if she loved me, or if she loved the idea of who I was, once upon a time.

                I asked the same thing to myself about how I felt for her, and I try my best not to think about the conclusion I came to.

                Together, we decided that we had surpassed time. It felt impressive, to think of our love as an independent variable, free from the influence of something like _time_. Frankly, though, I’d say time surpassed _us_ , because we clung to what we had (if we had anything) so stubbornly that time simply left us in the dust.

                We lasted long past our expiration date. Ignoring changes and fluctuations that occurred all around us.

                Ignoring changes _in_ us.

                Ultimately, Catherine is the one who brings it up. As we lie in bed together—the only thing we seem to remember how to do.

                “I don’t think we’re the same people anymore.”

                The next time I phone her, it’s in the light of day with my wife on the couch beside me. And we catch up, nice and proper. I forget Donna; I forget Beatrice. That Catherine hasn’t been around for a long, long time.


End file.
